


AKA You Should See The Other Guy.

by churchofyourcurves



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Jessica Jones AU, marvel AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/churchofyourcurves/pseuds/churchofyourcurves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica Jones AU</p><p>Carmilla Karnstein is the surly, alcoholic private eye, and Laura Hollis is the girl she can't stop kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AKA You Should See The Other Guy.

**Author's Note:**

> As per the advice of [commanderbabyface](http://commanderbabyface.tumblr.com/), totally marathoned Jessica Jones over the weekend and couldn't get the idea of these two in this badass universe out of my head, so boom.
> 
> Enjoy!

Carmilla had known that she and Laura would kiss, it had been inevitable, like how thunder followed lightning. She just hadn’t known when.

She hadn’t expected it to be in her shitty apartment, although in hindsight she probably should have. It was never going to be on a bridge with fireworks exploding in the background (unlike Laura’s first straight-to-DVD movie).

Laura had been waiting for her when she got back, curled up tightly into the corner between the stained hallway wall and her freshly-broken door. (Same old - cheating wife, belligerent husband, blah blah, broken door. She needed to install a reinforced wall to throw these assholes against.)

She quirked an eyebrow at the fact that Laura had waited outside when she could have easily shouldered her way into the apartment, and that she’d fallen asleep on the stoop.

She nudged her with the toe of her boot. Once, twice, and on the third Laura finally stirred and jerked awake before sleepily looking up at Carmilla, and a dazed smile spread across her face. “Hey.”

Forgoing etiquette, Carmilla asked, “Why are you asleep outside my front door?”

Laura stretched and pulled herself up onto her feet using the wall. “I wanted to go for dinner, and you weren’t answering your phone so I decided to-” Her eyes narrowed, focusing on Carmilla’s forehead - or, to be more precise, the burgeoning wound on Carmilla’s forehead where someone had caught her off guard with a baseball bat.

“Oh my God,” Laura gasped, as if both of them hadn’t experienced far worse traumas, grabbing Carmilla by the hand and dragging her into the apartment.

Carmilla knew better than to resist, so she let Laura lead her on like a kid and just commented dryly, “You should see the other guy.”

Literally though, she’d had to drop him off around the corner from the hospital afterwards. It had been a rough night, and they were doing two for one shots at one of her many favourite dive bars, which meant she might have gone a little overboard with her reaction.

“Is he still breathing?” Laura asked as she sat Carmilla down on a chair and went to the bathroom for the first aid kit.

“Yes.”

Laura made a sound that could have passed for disappointment as she came back into the office, grabbing one of the half-full bottles of bourbon on the way.

“Oh how well you treat me,” Carmilla drawled as she accepted the bottle and took a generous swig out of it. It reduced the pain in her head to a dull roar. God, she hated head wounds.

Laura snapped on the desk lamp and twisted it to face Carmilla. “Come here.”

Carmilla glared at the light before shuffling her chair closer, taking another drink for her troubles. Laura sat down on the desk and braced her left foot on the chair between Carmilla’s legs as she propped the first aid box on her raised knee. Carmilla chose to take another drink instead of examine the fucked up nature of their routines.

“Stay still.” Laura’s eyes were entirely focused on Carmilla’s head wound, wiping at it carefully with an alcohol swab. The smell of the rubbing alcohol mixed with the bourbon and for a moment Carmilla felt a dizzying nausea try to take hold of her head, but she just focused on the pattern of Laura’s jeans until it faded.

Remembering their earlier conversation, and suddenly feeling the need to talk, Carmilla asked, “What happened to your date?”

Laura’s eyes flicked to hers for a moment before she threw the bloodied swab into the bin with more force than necessary and got a fresh one out of the kit. “Nothing.”

“Seems like nothing.”

Laura’s hands dropped from Carmilla’s face and she leaned back, so that she was just behind the stream of light from the desk lamp. Her face was now a silhouette against the glow of the liquor store sign outside, but Carmilla caught the quiet sigh and dropping of her shoulders.

Carmilla reached forward and took Laura’s hand, even though it stung her bloodied knuckles, and when Laura made a small sound of pain, Carmilla looked down to see that Laura’s knuckles matched hers.

“Laura,” Carmilla said, her tone warning.

“Don’t be such a hypocrite.” Laura was up off the desk before Carmilla could do anything, walking to the other end of the room and then back again. Her pacing made her look like one of the big cats at the zoo, every muscle coiled and angry.

“Did he do something?” Carmilla asked, her hands already clenching as they imagined being wrapped around his neck.

“Oh right, because I can’t pick a date who wouldn’t try to assault me, right?” Laura’s voice was hurt and furious, and Carmilla desperately tried to keep her lid from blowing.

“Tell me what happened.” Carmilla hated how possessive her voice was sounding right now, but it was taking everything in her not to charge through the city in search for the guy to pummel him.

“We got mugged,” Laura spat out, her anger bigger than the current situation. “He ran. I dealt with the mugger.”

All of Carmilla’s rage leaked out of her, like the plug being pulled in a sink, and she stared at the girl who looked like she’d wear the lacquer off the floorboards with all her pacing. If there was even any lacquer. Doubtful.

“You dealt with the mugger?”

Laura was too pissed off to track the change in Carmilla’s tone, because she fired back with, “If you’re going to give me a lecture about-”

“No, no.” Carmilla stood, her palms facing Laura. “That’s badass, Hollis.”

Laura considered her suspiciously for a long moment, before her mouth rose into a huge smile, and she crossed the space between them so that she was standing right in front of Carmilla, beaming so brightly that she may as well be lighting up the whole crappy office. “I know, right? It was so...” Laura ran out of words and instead let out a happy exhale and Carmilla’s lips twisted into a crooked smile.

“Is this how you feel?” Laura asked, her words rushing out of her in a quick, thrilled succession. “I mean, the adrenaline, the _rush_ , the, the-” Laura’s eyes dropped to Carmilla’s mouth and Carmilla recognised the look, the bottom of her stomach dropping.

And then, thunder.

Laura kissed Carmilla as if she was the only thing that mattered in the world, as if she was the oxygen Laura was starving for, as if- God, fuck metaphors, she couldn’t think right now with the way Laura was kissing her.

It wasn’t the first time they’d kissed.

That had been when they were teenagers; after Laura had walked in on her lifting half a marble sink above her head, after Carmilla had seen Laura’s mother trying to force an eating disorder on her daughter. They’d settled into an uncertain trust - and eventually, they both stopped waiting for the other to leave.

Carmilla (as usual) had been dragged along to one of Laura’s meet and greets for the fans of her show. She was in the dressing room with Laura; one of the perks of their newfound friendship was that she no longer had to wait in the car with a window cracked like a dog. Laura examined her face in the mirror, before she huffed and leaned back in her chair.

“I’m breaking out,” she sighed, “Mom’s gonna kill me.”

“Because you chose to get acne,” Carmilla commented. She was sitting on the couch behind Laura, her feet propped up on the coffee table as she lazily flicked through a magazine with Laura’s face on the cover.

“Everything’s a choice, Laura,” Laura mimicked her mother’s haughty tone and Carmilla snickered.

Carmilla threw the magazine back onto the coffee table and stalked over to Laura’s spot in front of the vanity, her hands on the back of her chair as she made eye contact with her in the mirror. “What do you say we ditch this, and get up to some trouble?” She pulled the flask out of her back pocket and wiggled it suggestively in front of Laura’s face.

Laura’s mouth dropped into a surprised ‘o’ and Carmilla was completely charmed by the scandalised expression.

Laura turned the chair so that she was facing Carmilla, her eyes going from the flask to her face. “Where did you get that?”

“I swiped it from Mommy Dearest’s collection.”

“You’re gonna get in so much trouble,” Laura said, but her tone was delighted and her eyes were dancing.

“What’s she gonna do, ground me?” Carmilla cocked an eyebrow and they shared a mischievous grin.

Then, Laura’s hands were on the back of Carmilla’s neck, and she was pulling her in, in, in. Carmilla froze, unable to process the fact that Laura Hollis, _the_ Laura Hollis, America’s Sweetheart, was kissing _her_ , Carmilla Karnstein, resident orphan freak.

Just as Carmilla relaxed into it - _holy shit_ , _she tasted like bubble gum_ \- the door opened and they sprung apart. Laura’s mother was standing in the doorway, wearing a tight expression that revealed nothing.

“Laura, honey,” she said in a voice that tried to sound like honey, but came off more like lemon, “you’re due onstage.”

Laura quickly swept past Carmilla, leaving the dressing room, and her mother stayed in the doorway for a moment longer, regarding Carmilla. Her face was still unreadable, caught somewhere between contempt and fear, and it made Carmilla tip her chin up defiantly.

Mrs Hollis’ eyes dropped to the flask in Carmilla’s hand and the muscle in her jaw twitched before she turned on her heel and headed in the direction of the stage.

Carmilla didn’t know what she’d said to Laura, but after that day there had been a barrier between them. They were still close, but Laura seemed to be careful with any physical contact; it felt measured, monitored.

At least, until Laura had very publicly fired her mother, and burned every industry bridge that led to her. Laura had come home with a ridiculous sized bottle of non-alcoholic champagne (being a recovering drug addict didn’t leave much room for partying - although she also brought a bottle of whiskey for Carmilla).

Weirdly, Carmilla had to double-check it was non-alcoholic a few times that night, because Laura had been handsy in the same way she used to be when she’d been floating on Cloud Cocaine. But no, Laura’s pupils were fine, and the champagne was definitely non-alcoholic. Except she was also leaning against Carmilla, giggling and smiling that million-dollar smile that made Carmilla’s knees go weak.

“I’m surprised she never tried to represent _you_.”

“Me?” Carmilla choked on her sip of fake champagne, making the bubbles go up her nose painfully.

“Yeah.” Laura politely ignored Carmilla’s choking, just handing her a tissue. “I mean, you’re gorgeous.”

Carmilla’s face twisted. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were drunk.”

Laura scoffed and hit Carmilla on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Shut up. You know you’re gorgeous.”

Carmilla felt a warmth start to creep up from her stomach, and it had nothing to do with the crazy expensive whiskey that she’d spiked her drink with. Laura leaned against the back of the couch, humming as she looked out the window in front of them instead of at Carmilla.

“What?” Carmilla asked, because there was something in the way Laura wasn’t looking at her that seemed purposeful, and the hum sounded like it had replaced something that Laura didn’t want to say.

Laura shook her head, sending her blonde ponytail bouncing, still not looking at Carmilla. “Nothing, I just-” She finally turned to look at her, and something shifted in her eyes, and Carmilla’s mouth went dry.

Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was the newfound freedom, maybe it was the fact that Laura had spent all night finding ways to put her hands on Carmilla, maybe it was the fire in Laura’s eyes.

Whatever it was, Carmilla leaned forward and pressed her lips against Laura’s.

There was a clatter as Laura’s glass fell from her hand, faux-champagne spilling all over the disgustingly expensive rug, but neither of them cared. Laura’s fingers were going through Carmilla’s hair, tugging and pulling and making Carmilla feel like she was about to lose-

Laura backed away, her expression suddenly uncertain.

“Sorry, I- sorry.” Carmilla grabbed her jacket and was out the door before Laura could say anything.

This time, in her dingy office-apartment, was definitely different. For one thing, they hadn’t been interrupted and no one had run yet. For another, Laura had her up against the wall and they had both lost their shirts at some point, not that Carmilla cared, because Laura’s skin on hers was intoxicating in a way that Carmilla’s one night stands had never been.

“You taste like bourbon,” Laura said against Carmilla’s mouth.

“And you taste like strawberries,” Carmilla replied, kissed her again and added, “and coconut,” another kiss, “and watermelon, or something.”

Laura laughed. “It’s my lip-gloss,” she explained as she started to trail kisses down from Carmilla’s neck.

“The one you did that weird ad for?” Carmilla asked. When Laura pulled back enough to give her a questioning look, Carmilla shook her head and corrected herself, “I don’t care,” and leaned back in to re-capture her lips.

Later - much, much later - Laura was tracing patterns along Carmilla’s ribs while her head lay on her stomach. “How’s your head?”

“From the baseball bat or from you fucking me against the headboard?”

It was kind of adorable how the girl who, half an hour ago, had told her that she couldn’t cum without permission, was now blushing into the sheet.

The blush was still present, but Laura’s eyes twinkled as she replied, “Both.”

Carmilla smiled wryly and reached up to touch the wound. It had faded away while they’d been having sex, but the headboard had definitely brought the ache back. She grimaced, reached for the bottle of whiskey on the bedside table that still had a few mouthfuls of liquid left in it, and finished it in a quick series of swallows. “I’ll be fine.”

Carmilla could feel Laura’s eyes on her as she threw the bottle at the bin, which missed and knocked it over instead. Laura’s look felt expectant, so Carmilla spent an extra moment scowling at the bin than usual, until Laura asked, “Where do you want to go from here?”

Carmilla’s stomach sank and she shifted ever so slightly, so that she was just a touch further from Laura than before. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Laura said slowly, “I was thinking of grabbing some hideously greasy fast food that my dietician will yell at me for, and then we come back here and you show me just how strong you are against that wall-” Laura pointed at the wall next to them “-while doing that thing with your tongue again.”

Carmilla’s unease was immediately replaced with arousal as Laura leaned up to press a gently chaste kiss to her lips, in direct contrast to the words she’d said.

“Sounds like a plan.”

They shared the same grin that they’d been sharing since they were scared kids and the world was full of hurt. The world was still full of hurt, but their matching skinned knuckles showed that they weren’t just scared kids anymore.

After Carmilla jammed the stupid broken front door shut, Laura slipped a hand into hers and observed mildly, “I can help you fix that.”

Carmilla gave Laura a look, but didn’t move her hand away as she replied, “We’ll see.”


End file.
